Fire and Ice
by ubermooo
Summary: Kristoff's POV. An imaginary exchange that could have taken place right before Kristoff takes Anna to see the trolls. Gives a bit of insight into what may have been going through his head at this point in the story.


_This is what I think might have happened on the way to meet Kristoff's "family," just a bit of fun insight into what might have been going on on Kristoff's head at this point in the story. Kristoff, Anna, and Frozen are all property of Disney._

The further we get down the mountain, the more Anna stumbles over things that don't seem to be there. She follows behind me, fitting her stride to mine so she can use my footprints as stepping stones through the languid sea of snow. Even though I'm taking smaller and smaller strides, it's still getting more and more difficult for her every minute. She had no trouble keeping up with me on the way up the mountain, yet here she is breathing heavily and taking uneven, laborious steps as though we were climbing, not descending. I'd make her ride Sven, but he and Olaf have gotten way ahead of us, oblivious to our slowing pace.

I'm about to flag them down to suggest that we take a break when I hear a whooshing crunch and a burst of giddy laughter. When I turn around, she's two feet away from the trail buried up to her hips in snow. "Whoa! Hang on there!" I call to her and retrace my steps to pull her back onto the trail. She winces, clutching her chest with one hand, and she thanks me with just a breathy giggle and a strained smile.

"Come over here and rest a bit."

She points ahead of us. "What about Olaf and - "

"Let them go," I shrug. "Sven knows the way." I find some rocks protruding from the rock wall just uphill from us and make sure she sits on one before pulling my canteen and some jerkey from inside my coat and offering them to her.

Her blue eyes sharpen in alarm. "No, Kristoff," she protests. "I'm fine. That's all you have!"

"There's more where we're headed," I assure her. "Eat."

"Only if you do, too," she concedes. With a sidelong glance, she takes the jerky from me, bites off a chunk and hands it back to me and watches sternly without chewing until I follow suit. "What is this stuff, anyway?"

"Well, judging by the flavor and texture, the seasonings... hmm... I'd say..." I sniff it, then hold it out and scrutinize it theatrically, "... that I have no idea whatsoever."

Even in her fatigue she laughs out loud, her voice echoing musically off the walls of the snowy canyon beneath us, and I can't help but smile.

"Elk? Venison? Bear? Who knows?"

"Maybe reindeer!" She offers in mock horror.

"I'd rather it was wolf," I mutter, and she laughs again.

"Me too. Well, it's pretty good, whatever it is," she says, and I hand her the strip so she can take another bite.

"You're only saying that because we haven't eaten anything since breakfast," I grumble.

She lowers her eyes and the smile fades from her face. "Yeah... sorry about that. I really could have planned this whole thing much better. I feel bad for dragging you into all this."

For several moments we chew in silence as I search for something to say to make her feel better. It would sound lame to tell her that her that I don't mind being chased by wolves and enchanted snowmen, because obviously that's not true. And I could hardly say aloud that her company makes the wilderness a lot more enjoyable. Because that's too true for comfort right now. I'm obviously way out of practice in the human interaction department, so I just stare into the snow and shrug dumbly.

"This whole thing was a terrible idea," she sighs miserably, one gloved hand pressing unconsciously at her sternum again, the other supporting her head as it sinks sullenly to droop over her lap. I see a few more strands of her fiery hair glimmer and turn white from root to tip. I swallow uneasily.

"I had absolutely no idea what I was getting into," she continues. "I just blazed out here like I could solve it all in a couple of hours. I didn't even think once about everything that could go wrong. And then it all DID go wrong." She reaches for the canteen and sips elegantly at it, then pauses. "Well, I guess I could have gotten help from somebody awful. _That_ didn't go wrong."

She lowers the canteen into her lap, then turns and raises her face to me, and I'm startled enough by her veering train of thought to look directly back at her. Her eyes are serious and insistent. "I'm so grateful it was you, Kristoff," she says simply, and extends a hand to rest on my shoulder. "I'd probably be dead if it wasn't." I cower under her unabashed sincerity and mumble something incomprehensible about my civic duty. "No," she insists. "_Thank you._"

Now I'm thinking about who else might have helped her out here, if anyone. What might have happened to her if I'd skipped the trading post, if it had been someone else hiding out in the barn that night. She would have trusted them with just as much blind determination as she did me. Or, in the absence of a lousier scoundrel than myself, she would have gone alone.

I shudder.

If I were smart, I'd avert my eyes, but I find myself entrapped by her gaze and suddenly I can see her as her prince must: beautiful, impulsive and vivacious, so eager to love and be loved, naive and trusting and determined to see the absolute best in everyone she meets, including me. The warm, liquid look in her eyes makes me feel like whatever good she does see in me might actually be good enough.

My cheeks feel instantly warm and I turn away, clearing my throat. "Well, you haven't really had enough experience out here to know how to prepare, it's understandable. And you couldn't have known that your sister would-"

As my voice trails off helplessly, her hand presses to her chest again and I see a little more white appear in her hair. "She didn't mean to," she says softly. "I upset her again."

I don't know what to say to this, so I offer her the last of the jerky. She shakes her lowered head. Luckily, she keeps talking so I don't have to think of anything to say.

"She's been locked away for most of her life, and I never knew why. She was probably terrified of what she would do to us if she spent any time around us."

"I bet she knew exactly what would happen," I break in, pointing to the single strand of white hair that was already there the day I met her.

Her hand flies to her head, bumping mine mid-air, and I pull back hastily. She doesn't notice, her brow is furrowed. "I was always told that I'd been born with it, but-" Her gaze drifts down the canyon toward Arendelle. "I wonder..."

Now I'm searching my memory too. The trolls never told me much about the day they took me in. They were more concerned with finding me some food and a warm place to sleep than telling me about the king's visit that day. Mostly I'd forgotten about it until now. I can't decide whether to tell her about it or not. I know for sure now that it was Anna that was brought to the trolls that night. I remember the dismayed, broken look on Elsa's face that night and almost forgive her for this whole mess. Almost.

"Well, it doesn't matter now," she says, dismissing the whole thing with a wave of her hand. "It's done. I did everything I could do and now..."

"My friends can help you," I assure her quickly, trying to sound confident. "They might even know how to get rid of all the snow."

She perks up a little. "Really? How would they-?"

"There's... a lot of wisdom among the mountain folk," I say hesitantly.

"I don't doubt it," she says with a weak smile. "Are they your... parents?"

"No. My parents died of fever when I was little, so I learned how to be an ice hauler and just kind of made do on my own until-"

Her eyes are searching mine, and I can't decide whether I'll give more away by meeting her gaze or turning away. So I look back at her as she says gently: "You're an orphan just like me."

I bluster awkwardly for a moment. "Oh, well, no... I was young. I hardly remember..." she silences me with a hand on my knee.

"And you avoid people on purpose, don't you?" Another whiplash subject change.

"Well, I don't know about that. Not many people on the trail up to the lake. Isolation is more of an occupational hazard for me." She gives a small laugh and takes a couple more sips of water.

"I'd be surrounded by people every day if I could," she says dreamily, hugging her arms around herself and gazing up at the stars beginning to appear in the darkening sky. "I've been alone most of my life. I always thought that once the gates opened, I'd spend every moment gossiping and traveling and dancing... do you dance, Kristoff?"

I blink, surprised by another sudden subject change. She does that a lot.

"I do."

"You do?" It's more of an exclamation than a question, and her face is alive again.

I raise my eyebrows at her mysteriously. "I do."

"Well? Tell me more!" Her expression is rapt, expectant.

"You'll be disappointed," I admit. "There's not much to tell."

This does nothing to discourage her curious attention, and I find myself warming to being the center of attention for once. Well, her attention anyway. Her lips tighten into a cheeky smirk, demonstrating her refusal to let me off the hook.

"Well, it's probably not much like what you fancy people do at coronation balls, but yeah, we dance up here. It's fun. Whenever we've got a few musicians handy - a fiddler, maybe a fife or something-"

"And a lute!" She interjects.

"Yes, and a lute. Well... used to have a lute."

"Sorry again about that," she cringes. "I'll replace that too."

"Yes, you will. Anyway, dancing up here in the mountains is fun. Really fast, lots of spinning. Kind of rowdy."

"I like rowdy!"

I grin slyly at her. "I bet you do."

"It sounds so wonderful" She sighs, totally missing the innuendo. Then she perks up a little. "Will you teach me sometime?"

I come up short, stunned and defeated. There is absolutely no right answer to that question. When could I possibly, appropriately, dance with a princess of Arendelle? Somewhere in my brain, there's a version of Kristoff that's as crazy optimistic as she is, and he's in there fantasizing about running off with her, starting a family with her in a cabin in the woods, dancing by firelight every night and writing songs about her eyes. Rational Kristoff kicks him in the groin until he shuts up.

I realize that I've disappeared into my own head again, and I've emerged to find her distressed and nervous at my lack of response. I hurry to come up with a response. Any response.

"Well, we can't here, but... if the prince doesn't mind, sure I'll teach you to dance."

"Prince? Oh! Hans." That puts an end to the talk of dancing as her face clouds over with - what is that? Uncertainty?

This conversation is dangerous, we need a distraction. "Who taught you to dance? Your parents?"

Well, maybe that's not the best distraction, but she looks relieved anyway. "No, not really. They were always very busy. I had tutors that taught me. I was a dreadfully clumsy kid - too much energy to get my feet to do what they're supposed to." Her voice has taken on an anxious, rambling quality; she barely breathes between sentences. "I drove my tutors crazy! And none of them dared get too fond of me for fear of impropriety. That's always been the most frustrating thing to me. I mean, princesses need friends too! Especially after - " she stops, manically changing moods again. "My parents died at sea," she says suddenly, and even in my social awkwardness I can tell she's trying to make her voice sound light. "They left for a short visit to the Southern Isles and never came back. So it was just me and Elsa. Which means it was really just me."

"I know," I say softly, staring at my knees.

She reacts suddenly to this, "Oh, that's right! I bet everyone knows, don't they?" She gives a high, nervous laugh. "I forget that people I've never even met must know everything about me - and here I am unloading my whole life story on you. Sorry... if I'm awkward it's because I've been locked in a castle my whole life. Or maybe it's just how I am!" She laughs again, playing it off, and it's my turn to be sincere.

"You're not awkward," I say softly, and she bites her lip uncertainly. "You're perfect. Hans is a lucky man." Her eyes widen slightly as a warm, rosy blush begins to glow beneath the smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.

Now I'm blushing again, so I duck my head to inspect the rest of the jerky in my hand, studiously pulling strands off of it like my life depends on it. That's not good enough, so I stuff the whole thing in my mouth and say "Well, I'll fill the canteen again before we go." I search inside my coat for the canteen, patting up and down until I remember I gave it to Anna. And there she is, holding it out for me, one eyebrow raised and a shy, knowing smile pulling at her mouth. "Oh. Thanks."

I pour the last of the water down my throat in one swallow, then find some clean snow and fill the canteen with it and tuck it into its rightful place where my body heat will render it drinkable within a few minutes. I hear Anna's teeth chatter behind me and try not to think about what my body heat might do for her. Or, more distressingly, what holding her might do to me.

"We better get moving," I say. "I want to make sure we get there in time for dinner. They make a really great rabbit stew on days like these."

"That sounds heavenly," she says with a little shiver. I extend both hands to her and she accepts them readily, allowing me to pull her to her feet and guide her back to the trail. As she adjusts her cloak around her trembling shoulders, the scent of her hair and her clothing wafts toward me on the frigid air, fresh and sweet, and I'm struck by a surge of fierce hope that Hans truly does deserve the blind trust of this luminous girl. I mean, I'm sure I don't either, but will he sit by her side and listen to her talk and protect her from her own crazy ideas? Or will he take advantage of her desperate loneliness, her naivete and child-like optimism, to gain influence within her kingdom? I glower at the thought.

"What's wrong? Are you OK?" she asks, and I realize we're standing together, my hands still gripping hers absently through our mittens. And here I am, frozen in place, still scowling at the jagged rock face over her head as she stares at me with worry in her eyes. As usual, her sweet concern for my well-being makes me feel warm inside.

I chuckle bashfully. "Nothing. Look, there's a game trail ahead. It'll be easier to walk on. You go first and I'll keep you on your feet."

She smiles at me again, but as soon as she turns to move forward, the scowl is back on my face. I'm already kicking myself inwardly, shoving irrational Kristoff back into his corner. Of course I don't deserve her either. I haven't bathed in several days, my clothes and skin are weather-toughened and rough. Sure, I can help her survive this wilderness, but what good would I be in a palace? I think of the kind of girls that my people marry, stern and practical in a world that's unkind to the unprepared. I compare them to Anna, so full of dreams and adventure and so unaware of the dangers of my world. What kind of life could I possibly offer such a girl?

Ahead of me, Anna stumbles again and she reaches out for me. My hand is already at her elbow, just as she knew it would be. Wordlessly she turns to offer me another grateful smile before continuing forward. Overhead, the Northern Lights dance across a sea of glittering stars and somewhere from his dejected corner, romatnic Kristoff heaves an appreciative sigh. This day has been full of peril and triumph, beauty and tragedy, adventure and humor, fire and ice, fear and love. Who knows what the future might bring?


End file.
